Chloe | 24 | Bostonjohn winchester appreciation blog
Writing:smut for my networks, lighthouse au, and a ballet au
It was always a struggle to balance his desire to watch Dean rest peacefully - something that so rarely happened these days - and his quivering, restless need to touch Dean. In the end, he opted for them both; he let his eyes skim over the high cheekbones, the stubble, the strong jaw and slide down over a muscled chest and collarbones that spread and sing like nightingales in the thin light of morning. When he’d soaked in his fill, he slithered down the length of Dean’s body, under the covers while nimble fingers slipped under the waistband of Dean’s boxers and tugged them down and off.
Dean was pulled unwillingly into consciousness, but it took him mere moments to get completely onboard with his awakening. The heat of Cas’ mouth was perfect - a languid, wet welcome into the world of the waking - and Dean moaned has his hands tangled in the tufts of dark hair they found beneath the sheets.
Cas wants Dean to wear the trench coat. Do with that what you will
As he emerged from the bathroom, part of Dean felt ridiculous, but a larger part of him felt… sexy. His fingers fiddled with the cloth tie around his waist, belying the self-consciousness fluttering around his stomach… until he caught Cas’ approving, somewhat glazed gaze. With a jag of sharp electricity down his spine, he realized he was the one knocking the words from Cas’ mouth, he was the one putting that nearly stupefied look there. It made it so much easier to saunter over to Cas, pulling the coat open as he went to reveal the lacy white panties Cas had earlier pressed into his hands along with the coat and an earnest question. The delicate fabric felt so invigorating against his skin, but looked even better against the tented khaki of Cas’ slacks as Dean straddled him and leaned down to breath hot against his lips.
"There, there, angel; I like you best this way," he said, stalking slow, languid circles around his captive.
Reaching out, he let the back of a finger trail down Castiel’s - angel of the Lord’s! - cheek. What a prize, this one was: such a handsome vessel with such a brilliant, blue-white grace. He was so going to enjoy watching that grace dim to gray with the insidious poison of his power. Dim until he could slice these ropes and watch this heavenly creature kneel in front of him by choice.
He could feel Dean’s fingers digging into his hips, hear his grunts and sighs, but he was too far gone, too close to the edge to really acknowledge anything but the hot friction inside him and the delicious tension in his belly.
He leaned down, slow, pumping his hips in tight circles as he brought his lips to Dean’s. They were both breathless and their lips were thick and clumsy with their arousal.
"Cas, Cas," Dean panted, "Cas, I’m so close, come on, baby, just like that."
Within the next few downward thrusts, Cas felt the tip of Dena’ cock catch on his prostate; he chased the feeling for the few more seconds of control left to him and felt the air rush out of his lungs as he felt his being spasm with pleasure and the warmth of Dean’s seed.
duuude, something with a Wing!Kink
Dean arched up into the firm strokes of Cas’ fingers, coated in the slightly nutty, warm scent of Cas’ own oil. It reminded him of home, plucked heart-strings he wasn’t even aware of; he spared only a few moments for these thoughts, though, as the angel’s long fingers crooked and plucked strings of an entirely different kind deep within him, pulling the back of his navel tight into an aroused contraction.
By the time Cas enters Dean, he’s more than ready, writhing on the sheets and meeting each powerful pump of Cas’ wings with a upwards thrust of his own. When the jet black wings settle around him, form a cocoon around him and Cas and cordon them off into a world where only each other exists, Dean lets go. When it’s just the two of them, Cas holding his gaze and penetrating him deeply with eyes and cock, Dean gazes back and lets out a series of pleasured groans. With jerky hands he reaches out and strokes the dark down, sliding his fingers between the plumes and relishing the sounds he manages to coax from Cas.
i just came home from an evening on the town and i’m drunk!
so why don’t you give me a little prompt and i will write a 5 sentence ficlet for it!
come on, do it, you know you want to!